That I'd Lay Down
by AliasPseudo
Summary: While Duo's recovering from being captured, interrogated, and rescued, he dreams of someone long absent and the last person he expected digs a little deeper. Past 2xSolo, 1x2 implied. One-shot. Duo POV. M for language.


**That I'd Lay Down**

by APs

**A/N **-So, here's a short one for my first go. It takes place between episodes nineteen and twenty, after Heero breaks Duo out of the OZ base. I know that I took a little liberty in the application of drugs during Duo's interrogation, so don't feel obligated to point that out, please. On the other hand, I don't usually write Heero x Duo, so your thoughts on that or the characters would be lovely.

**PS **- This was semi-inspired/written to 'Dreaming My Dreams' by the Cranberries. I don't own that or Gundam Wing.

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(Duo POV)

I started to shiver. Even mild colonial nights could be cold as hell when you're six and starving and on the streets. We used to say it was space reaching in, through the metal and concrete, to find the unwanted. We were a stupid bunch of kids. That's about when I felt arms wrap around me, bigger than my malnourished self, but still scrawny. They drew me against a warm chest and I felt the cold melt from me as I tried to match the slow tempo of someone else's lungs and heart. Then there was breath on my neck and warm, wet lips ghosting a kiss just below my ear.

_Solo_… My eyes shot open and around the god awful bright room before settling on the only other body there. Heero was watching me from the other side of the room with that damn blank stare. Some days I just wished he'd blink. He was standing there like he hadn't moved all night, like a freaking statue. Could have been, too, considering I'd actually had to sleep pretty sound to get those interrogation drugs out of my system. I looked away first, hoping it came off blithely unimpressed and not half as hazily pissed as I felt.

"Morning," I managed to grunt. My throat was gravel and, now that I thought about it, I ached. Nothing I couldn't handle, but a little too familiar. I was sleep gross and stank of stale sweat.

Mister personality grunted, in agreement or disapproval or maybe he just had gas. Hell, I suppose he was entitled; he had just busted me out of a freaking OZ base. I felt my grin slip onto my face like an alley cat you fed once and just couldn't bring yourself to kill. Annoyingly familiar and ragged around all the right edges.

I looked around the room again, actually seeing it this time. It was one of those colonial dorms, all clean lines and a big window. One of those places where what little clutter you had was hidden in the wall storage or you wouldn't have room to move. Honestly, it felt a little too close to the jail cell I'd just gotten out of, but that was colony construction for you.

"Nice place." That apparently didn't even merit a grunt. I fought hard not to laugh about the stick up his ass and settled for a subdued chuckle, "Got anything to eat?"

Without even pausing to think, like that had been what he'd been waiting for all along, he bent at the waist and came up with a small plastic bag, handing it to me, "Here."

"Uh… thanks." Inside there were a few meal bars and a sports drink. Bland and full of protein, sodium, vitamins, and everything else a growing, or recovering, body could want. It's a policy of mine to never snub food. It's also a policy to throw up as little as possible. To say the least, I took it slow.

I could feel Heero's eyes burning holes in me and, when I looked up, I was greeted with a frown. Now, I'd been expecting a glare, so a frown wasn't actually too bad.

"Chemicals," I explained with an offhanded shrug. "The drugs are mostly gone, but they can play hell with your stomach."

He nodded. It was good to see he at least still understood the language. I chewed my small mouthful really well before swallowing, then held up another of the bars, "Want to break some fast with me?"

To my utter shock, he stepped forward and took the bar. His hand gently brushed mine before I let go and he sat at the foot of the bed, eyes finally somewhere other than me. That made sense; I hadn't seen any other furniture in the room. He was barefoot, his tank top and hair a little more rumpled than usual, and that was the only evidence he'd been sleeping too. I took another small bite and leaned back against the pillows.

"Who's Solo?" I choked and sat up hacking my lungs out. The guy seemed genuinely surprised by my reaction, but I was a little too busy to be too worried over it. I must have said it when I was dreaming earlier instead of just thinking it.

"No one you need to know about," I growled. Growls are one of those universal things. People that speak other languages, or can't speak at all, know that a growl means danger. Even the mangiest, bone thin, crippled dog can growl and bite if pushed. Seeing Heero's face stay blank only made me wonder if the guy was human.

He nodded and looked away from me again, opening the bar as a sort of fidget, if I actually believed he could fidget, which I didn't. It wasn't a lie; he didn't need to know who Solo was or what he'd been to me. Didn't need to know how I'd relied on him, or that I thought of him whenever I woke up next to someone. He didn't need to know everything about me. Hell, I didn't even know everything about me. Maybe that was it, or maybe it was the way he was avoiding looking toward me, or the damn drugs still cycling through my system, but whatever it was, I hope it rots in hell.

"He led my gang when I was on the streets." He frowned at me with the stupid meal bar hanging out of his mouth. I swear to God, I'd've died laughing if we'd been talking about almost anything else. He didn't get it. What's not to understand? I'd run with a gang to keep myself from dying in ways that made exploding seem damn peaceful.

"He watched out for the younger kids." Yep, that's me attempting to explain. Solo had been no saint, but he'd been there for everyone he could manage. He'd reached out when everyone was cringing back, that damn kid.

It seemed to satisfy Heero, though, because his face was blank again as he grunted and chewed his bar. He brought a foot up onto the bed, leaning his arm on the knee and lounging in what I'd've thought to be the most awkward position possible. He made it look good. Calm as the clear blue sky, and twice as blue, his eyes watched me without his face twitching a muscle, "He died."

It wasn't a question, didn't have to be. There it was the whole sordid story in three sentences. Solo's entire life, as much as anyone would ever know. "Yeah…"

I left out the robbing and scraping and starving, left out the Plague. I didn't get into the dying, the antidote I never took, or the unbroken promise not to cry over his body. I couldn't explain how he faced danger, hopelessness, and death with a smirk like a dare. I couldn't say how he held me tight at the end as he had through so many terrible things, taught me to crave human touch. If I was completely honest with myself, which I was with disturbing regularity, I'd always figured it was the way Solo'd've wanted it. Even when he was sick beyond helping, he'd been the one to save the others, or rather the reason the others got saved. Leave 'em wanting more; leave me to do his job. The person I thought of first when I didn't wake up alone. Why was I thinking so much about that damn kid? That unbelievably stunning damn kid.

"I have some research to finish," Heero droned out as though I'd just admitted to preferring black pens over blue. He put on socks and shoes with a quickness and was headed out the door, "Eat, then sleep more. Your body needs it."

"What the hell is wrong with that guy?" I blinked after him in the sudden silence. I finished the second bar fast, since the first had settled my stomach some and slugged down half the sports drink before settling back down into the bedding, my back to the wall this time. I was beat to hell between the conversation and my aching body and the food in my gut was kicking my body into repair mode. I drifted for some time, looking at the room. There was no second bed, no room for it, so where the hell had Heero slept? I hoped not the floor, though that might explain for his moody ass. The pillow smelled distinctly of fresh soap and earthy musk, must have been Heero, his bed after all. As my eyes finally closed, the spot on my neck, just under my ear tingled faintly in memory of a ghosted kiss. Why the hell had I dreamt of Solo, who only came up when I didn't sleep alone?


End file.
